


breathe

by vandoorne



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Blow Jobs, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:09:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26414692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vandoorne/pseuds/vandoorne
Summary: some nights, after edmund and peter play a set, all edmund wants is to have his release. thankfully, peter provides.
Relationships: Edmund Pevensie/Peter Pevensie
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31
Collections: Narnia Fic Exchange 2020





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fabulous_but_evil](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulous_but_evil/gifts).



On some nights, after they play, all Edmund needs is a quick fuck backstage to get it all out of his system. There's something tightly wound up inside him, like a rubber band stretched so tight that it's about to snap at any moment.

Edmund likes performing. He genuinely does. He loves it when he goes up on stage and he's strumming his guitar, playing on the bass, the keyboards, using the looper pedal, playing the music that he's worked so hard on. Beads of perspiration lines his forehead, he clutches hard at the microphone, so hard that his knuckles turn white, and he sings his heart out. His hair falls into his eyes sometimes, and lately he's taken to wearing a hairband to push it up. It drives the audience wild, which he finds amusing to no end. Anything would drive the audience wild, really. It had been some music festival, and it had been so hot that he had stripped to just a singlet and his skinny jeans, then he had lost that singlet too. The screams had been so loud that even now they still reverberate in his ears, so he isn't unaware of the effect that he has. That, however, is the least of his concerns.

See, the thing that Edmund is really concerned with is the reaction of his bandmate — Peter. Peter, his keyboardist, his drummer, always expanding his repertoire as their band moves in new directions and explores new sounds. They've been touring together for years now, making music with another for, what, almost their entire life? At some point everything seems to blur together for Edmund, and he doesn't remember where anything begins and anything ends. It's been Edmund and Peter only for the longest time now — when they were younger, each other was all they had in the orphanage. Two brothers, who had lost everything, the two of them against the world. The months had turned into years, and off they had gone to boarding school, costs borne by a mysterious benefactor who only wished to be identified as Mr Aslan. At Peter's graduation from university, there hadn't been anyone to see him except for Edmund, and vice versa at Edmund's. Throughout it all, Edmund's only constant had been Peter. Peter, his older brother, his rival, his... Somewhere along the way, something had shifted, and things had changed.

There had been music, which had been there for the both of them throughout their lives. Edmund remembers writing music with Peter, with Peter writing lyrics on old notebooks to the chords Edmund would strum on the guitar in the orphanage's music room. Now years later, here they are. A stage of their own, instruments of their own. And with one another.

'Knackered?' Peter asks, coming out of the showers. There isn't anyone in here, everyone's busy fussing about outside, waiting for them to get ready before they're off for drinks to celebrate the end of their tour. He's a sight for sore eyes, Edmund thinks, watching as Peter uses a towel to dry his hair. He's pretty sure that Peter hasn't got anything on underneath the towel wrapped around his waist, and it wouldn't be long before he finds out.

'What do you think,' Edmund snorts. He's in need of a shower, to be honest. His skin is still sticky with perspiration, and he had been waiting for Peter to be done. Peter, who had made a beeline to the showers immediately after they had finished their encore, all too eager to get clean. It had been a punishing set, Edmund supposes, and they had both kept busy throughout. What Edmund didn't get was how despite knowing their usual post-concert routine, Peter always insisted on showering first.

Peter pads across the room softly, in those tacky bedroom slippers that he insists on wearing around after his shower before changing to shoes. 'Not quite, I'd say.' Peter chuckles, taking in the sight of Edmund, seated on the sofa, with its outrageous floral print. Edmund, shirtless, still in his ripped jeans, torn at the knee, legs spread wide. 'Were you waiting for something?' he asks, standing between Edmund's legs.

Edmund barely resists the urge to roll his eyes. 'Don't act coy,' he grunts. 'Doesn't suit you.'

This time, it's Peter's turn to snort. 'Oh?' he asks, lips curling up in a smirk. 'What suits me then?'

It's a little difficult for Edmund to stand, given Peter's current position, but he makes do, reaching for Peter's neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Peter gasps, surprised at the suddenness of it all, and he groans when Edmund bites on his lower lip. By the time Edmund is pulling away, Edmund is grinning. 'This look suits you,' Edmund says, voice serious. Peter's looking up at him, cheeks lightly flushed, hair still in a bit of a mess, lips parted and panting slightly.

They don't have much time left before someone's going to start banging on the door and demand that they hurry the fuck up. By now, Peter is on his knees, between Edmund's splayed thighs. He's stroking Edmund's cock slowly, looking up at Edmund, as if daring Edmund to complain about just how much he's teasing him, and Edmund glares at him, unwilling to back down.

'This suits you,' Peter says, leaning in to blow lightly at the tip of Edmund's cock. He's so close, _so close_ , but not close enough to touch, and Edmund clenches his fists by his side, determined not to give Peter the satisfaction of hearing him protest. 'Looking like this, so tightly wound up, so desperate for release. You always get like this after each time we play, and it's adorable, really.'

This time, Edmund doesn't hold back. 'Shut up,' he groans. This time, he leans in to grab a fistful of Peter's hair, pulling his head back.

'I take it that you don't want me to use my mouth then?' Peter asks, hand stilling on Edmund's cock. He's still close enough that Edmund can feel his breath on him as he speaks.

' _Peter_ ,' Edmund barely chokes out. This time, he's pushing Peter's head closer, and Peter laughs.

'Like I said, this suits you,' Peter says, licking his lips. 'Now, shall I begin?'

When Edmund comes, he gets it all over Peter's face. He's panting, flush high on his cheeks, and his hands are still in Peter's hair. So okay, he'll have to make do with this tonight. Later on, when they get back to their hotel, Edmund's going to fuck Peter into the mattress until he's a whimpering mess, begging for him to stop because his body can't take any more. But anyway.

'You've made a mess,' Peter says, but there's no heat in his voice. He sounds more amused than anything, and Edmund grunts. 'To think that I've just showered.'

Edmund reaches to cup Peter's cheek, using his thumb to rub his come into Peter's skin. 'There,' he says, voice hoarse. 'This suits you.'

Peter laughs. 'I'm going to wash up again. Joining me?'

Edmund leans in, kissing Peter's forehead. 'Of course.'


End file.
